Realizing that my remark had caused him to digress, I prompted, 'So you made inquiries of your Irish friends regarding William Woodward?'
'I did indeed, and very thorough they were, too. But no sighting of anyone resembling him could be recollected in any of the slave markets held in March last year. These markets of necessity take place in secret, but are well attended; and if my immediate informant had not been present, he always knew of someone else who had.' Alderman Weaver leaned even closer, thumping the arm of his chair. 'I feel sure in my own mind that an elderly man with severe head injuries would not have been overlooked, if only for the simple reason that his appearance would have provoked ridicule from the onlookers. Furthermore, there appears to have been no talk of a runaway slave in the latter half of August, and I am assured that such news does get about.' His gaze became yet more earnest. 'Mistress Walker has doubtless told you in what condition her father returned to her, and indeed, I saw William for myself on more than one occasion. The blows he had received to his head had addled his wits; and while I believe a man in his state could, by instinct, make his way home on foot, I am extremely doubtful of his having the ability to find a ship's master willing to transport him across water. Sailors are too superstitious. And if he had found someone, William had no money with which to pay for his passage.'
I realized with dismay that I had given very little thought to William Woodward's return journey, and silently upbraided myself for the lapse. This latter argument of the alderman seemed to me a more telling one than any he had hitherto advanced, although taken altogether, his reasoning convinced me that I must look elsewhere for the truth concerning the old man's disappearance. It seemed unlikely that he had ever been in Ireland.
I stood up. 'Thank you for your time and patience,' I murmured humbly, still shaken by the fact that I had obtained but half a story from Margaret Walker, and determined to remedy this omission as soon as possible.
My recent illness, I decided, must have blunted the sharpness of my mind. The alderman also rose, anxious to be away to the weaving sheds and the waiting aulnager. I went on, 'If I am to help Mistress Walker discover what really happened to her father, I shall need to make more inquiries. But I hesitate to intrude upon the grief of Edward Herepath and Mistress Ford without some kind of introduction. Would you… could you provide me with a letter?'
Alderman Weaver considered my request, then nodded briskly. 'Accompany me to the weaving sheds, and I'll dictate some lines to my clerk after I have finished with the aulnager. Meantime, you can take yourself down to the tenter ground. It was two of the tenterers' children who fished William's hat from the Frome. You may gain some further information from them, although after all this time, I would not wish to raise false hopes. But something new may be discovered.'
He called for his manservant to bring his hat and warm frieze cloak, and together we set out, along Broad Street, down High Street, and across the bridge with its shops and tall, narrow houses. Spanning the middle of the bridge was a chapel dedicated to the Virgin and, as we passed through, I sent up a prayer, asking Our Lady's blessing on my mission. I might have asked for its successful conclusion, except I had learned at an early age that neither God, nor His gracious Lady Mother, nor His Son, our Saviour, are prepared to give something for nothing. I should have to work to ensure a happy outcome.
The weaving sheds were busy at that time of day, and the clack of the looms could be heard even before we reached St Thomas's Church. From every cottage there sounded the hum of spinning-wheels. The aulnager was already waiting outside the counting-house, tapping an impatient foot and resisting the head weaver's attempts to placate him for the alderman's tardiness. An alderman of Bristol, however, was unlikely to be intimidated by the annoyance of a mere city inspector, and Alderman Weaver took much longer than was necessary instructing me how to reach the tenter grounds, which lay on the other side of the Redcliffe wall, along the bank of the Avon.
'Come back later,' he told me finally, 'and you shall have your letter.'
I thanked him and went out by the Redcliffe Gate. To my left, William Canynges's beautiful church of St Mary stood guard over the row of houses climbing Redcliffe Gate but I turned to my right, past the gravel pits to where the fullers had their small community, soaking and hammering the newly woven cloth before dispatching it to the tenters to be stretched. The tenter fields were further on again, looking across the river towards the Great Marsh and the Backs, where ships rode at anchor, waiting to be relieved of their cargoes or loaded for the journey home.
I cursed myself for a second time when I realized I had failed to ask the alderman for the two boys' names, but set about remedying the omission. There were a number of men working at the wooden frames. One couple near me fixed the selvedge of a piece of fulled cloth to the tenterhooks of the crossbar, before hooking the other selvedge to an even heavier wooden bar which was then allowed to swing free, its weight pulling and stretching the wet material into shape. When they had finished, I approached them cautiously and made my request. I knew from experience how loath closely knit communities of craftsmen were to give information to prying strangers, and was not surprised to be met with tightly shut mouths and uncomprehending stares. But once I had mentioned the names of Margaret Walker and Alderman Weaver, I was treated with less suspicion, and one of the two men told me what I needed to know.
'You're wanting Burl Hodge's young lads,' he said, giving me a long hard look. 'Come to think of it, Burl's mentioned you. You're the chapman who was taken sick some weeks back, just after Christmas. He helped carry you to Widow Walker's cottage, if I remember rightly.' I assured him that he did and asked where I could find Burl Hodge's sons this time of day.
'You'd best ask Burl himself,' my informant answered grudgingly, and nodded towards the opposite end of the field. 'Over there, with the green jerkin and brown hood.' I thanked him and made my way between the frames to where Burl Hodge was taking a well-earned rest from the rigours of hanging wet cloth on a cold, dank January day. He regarded my approach with some suspicion until sudden recognition dawned. He stopped blowing on his chilblained fingers and grinned.
'It's you, chapman. Hob and I've wondered how you were doing, if you were up and about yet. A nasty turn you had there. But Mistress Walker will've looked after you. A good woman, that, whatever some people might whisper behind her back. But then, some'd whisper about their own grandmothers. You're still seemingly a bit pale, though. Get plenty of her good victuals inside you. Now what can I do for you?'
I explained as best I could without taking up too much of his time, for I could see his partner was waiting to hang a new length of cloth which had just been brought from the fulling yard. 'I understand it was your two lads,' I ended, 'who fished William Woodward's hat from the River Frome. Alderman Weaver suggested I speak to them if I could find them.'
Burl scratched his head thoughtfully. 'They might be at home with their mother this time o' day, but mostly they're out getting into mischief. A pair o' rascals, and always have been. But the elder, Jack, 'll soon be starting his apprenticeship, praise be to St Katherine, for he's to be a weaver, unlike me. This job's not fit for a dog in winter. He's to go to Master Adelard in Redcliffe Hill.
As to this other business of William Woodward, speak to them by all means, though I doubt either Jack or Dick'll be able to tell you more'n they've told already. All the same, I'd be glad to have the mystery cleared if it were possible. It's been hard on those two women.' 'Where do you live?' I asked, as he turned away to grasp his end of the wet cloth which the second man was pulling from the basket.